


no good doing what I'm told

by Lise



Series: Where the Devil Don't Go [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: (...sort of), Alien Biology, Anal Sex, Dark, Deepthroating, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Forced Prostitution, Fucked Up, M/M, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, POV Loki (Marvel), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Slavery, Size Kink, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Rape, The Author Regrets Everything, Threats of Violence, Whipping, Xeno, horrifying porn, look there are a lot of warnings on this thing, should really be a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21517540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: The Grandmaster is hard up for cash. He uses the resource he has on hand: namely, Loki.Or: there was always going to be a first time. Loki just didn't realize it was going to be this bad.
Relationships: En Dwi Gast | Grandmaster/Loki, Loki (Marvel)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Where the Devil Don't Go [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1202188
Comments: 24
Kudos: 312





	no good doing what I'm told

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [no good doing what I'm told | не умею делать то, что мне приказывают](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24413779) by [Summer__child](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summer__child/pseuds/Summer__child)



> So uh. I've really got nothing to say for myself, here. This happened, it's a thing I did, it's _way_ outside my comfort zone on several different levels...just when I thought I couldn't get any deeper into the problematic content pit, HERE I AM with almost 10k more words of it. Surprise!
> 
> I hope I stamped enough warnings on this up top, but to reiterate: this is nasty stuff, mind the gap.
> 
> With many, many thanks to my forever beta, [Amelia](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), and [Echo](http://loxxxlay.tumblr.com) for preliminary reassurance of a first draft. Also to [Lauren](http://led-lite.tumblr.com) for consistently enabling my worst plans. This one's for you.

“Sweetheart,” the Grandmaster said, plopping himself down next to Loki and draping his arm around his shoulders, “we have a problem.”

Curled up with his legs underneath him, Loki swallowed a laugh that would have come out hysterical. _Only one?_ He didn’t try to move away, even if he wanted to. He’d learned the price of doing that. The Grandmaster wouldn’t like it, and the Grandmaster tended to react poorly to things he didn’t like. 

He’d gone a whole day without the experience of the obedience disc triggering. He wasn’t in a hurry to make it happen again. 

“A problem?” he echoed cautiously.

“Hm-mm,” the Grandmaster said. “Not a - not a _huge_ problem. But still a...problem.” He paused, plainly waiting for Loki’s response.

“What sort of problem,” Loki said obediently. He was trying not to tense.

“I’m afraid I - hm. Had a bad run of luck at the tables,” the Grandmaster said. “Really, just - not my lucky night, I suppose! But the upshot is...the upshot is we _may_ be a little low on credits. Almost out, actually.” He made a face. “Probably should’ve quit while I was ahead, but...I was just having so much _fun,_ you know how it is.” 

Loki did not, in fact, know how it was. He tried to avoid gambling. At least the kind he couldn’t cheat at. He made himself nod, though his stomach was sinking toward his heels. The Grandmaster beamed at him.

“I knew you’d understand, honeybunch. Anyway, now I’ve got to...I’ve got to find a way to win it all _back._ And some extra, of course, so I can keep us in style. But to get back in the game...I need something to ante up. Some starter cash. You, uh - you hear what I’m saying?”

He did. Loki did, and his stomach twisted into a knot. He could not make himself nod, only stared at the Grandmaster. 

He’d thought, somehow, that the last time had just been...making a point. Had been the Grandmaster, in typical dramatic fashion, demonstrating that Loki was _his_ and he could do what he liked with him. 

And he had. Done what he liked. Often, and at length, and regardless of Loki’s opinion on the matter.

But why was he pulling this back out _now?_ Surely there was another way for the Grandmaster to acquire the money he wanted, rather than using Loki. Was it just - simple sadism, or because he _could,_ or had Loki somehow managed to make a mistake that he hadn’t noticed-

The Grandmaster frowned at him. “I want an answer when I ask you a question, Lo.” 

“Yes,” Loki forced out. “I hear what you are...but-” He groped for words that wouldn’t contain the forbidden phrase _don’t want._ The Grandmaster laid a finger on his lips before he could say anything.

“Hold right there,” he said. “You know I don’t like ‘buts.’ It sounds like - it makes it sound like you’re going to argue with me. But I’m sure you weren’t going to do that. Right?”

Loki tensed and made himself shake his head, fighting every instinct that told him to snarl and fight and, yes, _argue._ But the Grandmaster would only set off the obedience disc and leave him writhing on the floor, staring down at him and clicking his tongue in disappointment. “No,” he said. “Of course not.”

“Good! That’s what I like to hear.” The Grandmaster cast him a dazzling smile. “Especially cause - because I’ve _already_ found a buyer for you.”

Loki’s stomach lurched into his throat and for a moment he thought he might actually vomit on the Grandmaster’s feet. He swallowed it back with an effort. “I...really?” His voice sounded faint and too high. 

“I know! Well - _almost_ found one. I’ve got _interest,_ though of course - of course he wants to see you first, get a look at what he’s, hmm, getting. Of course I’m sure once he slaps eyes on you he won’t be able to pay up fast enough.” The Grandmaster waggled his eyebrows. 

He _was_ going to be sick. “Grandmaster,” Loki said weakly. “I couldn’t imagine being parted from you.”

The Grandmaster’s eyes widened and he blinked twice. “Oh! Oh, no, honey, this isn’t for _good._ This is just - just for the night, that’s all. I mean, we might have to revisit depending how things go...but hopefully my luck’ll turn around!”

Loki bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. _Please,_ he wanted to say. _Please don’t do this._ Bad enough to be chained to the Grandmaster. Bad enough to be his whore. But to be sold, _pawned,_ to line the Grandmaster’s pockets…

“If your resources are strained,” Loki said desperately, “I do not want to be - a weight on you. I wouldn’t take offense if you needed to leave me behind.”

“Don’t be silly,” the Grandmaster said. “Turn you out on your ear like that? _Lo_ ki. It’s like you think I don’t _care_ about you.” He twisted toward him and turned Loki’s head in his direction with one finger. “Besides, where do you think you’d go, kitten? Who _else_ in the universe loves you like I do?”

The first thought that surfaced was _Thor,_ but then he thought of him saying _maybe it’s for the best if we never see each other again,_ of him walking away as Loki thrashed on the floor, leaving him behind at the mercy of the Grandmaster. No, if he found Thor again - if Thor was even _alive -_ Loki didn’t think he’d be welcomed with open arms.

“Come on, sweet thing,” the Grandmaster said coaxingly. “Don’t look so glum. Think of it as an _adventure._ It could even be fun! And who knows? Maybe things will go _so_ well that I’ll be able to pick you up early.” 

Loki’s stomach rolled like the sea in a storm. _This isn’t happening,_ he thought, dazed. _This is all some - horrible fever dream. A cruel joke._

“Well! Now that that’s settled,” the Grandmaster said, and bounced to his feet. “Let’s go meet your new...friend. Stars, hon, try to smile. You look so much prettier when you smile. Don’t you want to look your best?”

A scream boiled up Loki’s throat. If he started, he was fairly sure he wouldn’t stop. He held it in, barely.

“Of course, Grandmaster,” he said in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. _Please,_ he thought. _Please,_ and didn’t even know who he was pleading with. The Norns, he was fairly sure, were just laughing their asses off.

* * *

When Loki realized who the Grandmaster was guiding him toward, a hand on the small of his back, he didn’t quite manage to stop himself from balking, his mouth shaping the word _no._ The Grandmaster turned toward him, giving the convincing impression of surprise.

He was taller than Loki by a head, and broadly built as Thor. Loki could not have named his species, and didn’t particularly want to. His skin was rough and a dark gray, looking like a knife would struggle to penetrate it, and he had three sets of limbs. Two of them were roughly recognizable; the last pair looked troublingly like tentacles. 

“What’s up, honeybunch?”

“Grandmaster,” he said faintly. “Is it possible for me to...make a request?” 

“What kind of request, sweetheart?” the Grandmaster asked. “Be quick. Zal is waiting.” 

“Might I…” Loki focused his eyes on the Grandmaster’s face, refusing to look past him at the creature that would, in all probability, shortly own him for the night. “May I have some...choice in who. Ah. Purchases me?” 

The Grandmaster’s eyebrows furrowed. “Some...you’re not _objecting,_ are you? You’re not - do you think I wouldn’t make sure you were _well_ looked after? I’d never give you to just anyone, Lo. Not a special thing like you. I’d only...only people I know will treat you _right._ ”

It wasn’t a refusal. Not in so many words, which gave him some room. “I’m certain that’s so,” he said. “And of course I - trust your judgment. Only I could be much more...effective if-”

“Oh, _Lo-_ lo,” the Grandmaster interrupted. “It’s, uh. It’s really cute that you think you get to call the shots, here. I mean, you’ve...you haven’t shown the best judgment in the _past,_ have you? Some of your choices have been - mm, a bit _questionable._ Don’t you think I might be better equipped than you to make these important decisions?”

That still wasn’t a refusal in so many words. But Loki recognized it for what it was. He closed his mouth and swallowed his objections and made himself follow when the Grandmaster nudged him forward. “Now,” he said. “Don’t...I’m going to say, don’t speak. You can be a little...let your body do the talking for you. Well, your body and me.”

He gave Loki another nudge, urging him forward again.

“Zal, this is Loki,” the Grandmaster said. “I told you about Loki, remember? Gorgeous, right? I’m telling you, I didn’t exaggerate, did I?”

Zal’s eyes moved slowly from head to toe and back again. Loki fought the urge to recoil, or snarl, though his stomach was twisted into a knot and it felt a bit as though the Grandmaster’s hand on his back was the only thing keeping him from trying to bolt. “No,” he said after a while. “You didn’t exaggerate.” 

Loki wondered what exactly the Grandmaster had said, and decided it was better not to know. “Say hello, Loki,” the Grandmaster said, and to Zal, “he can be a little - _reserved,_ sometimes. Don’t worry, he opens right up in the bedroom. Or, ah, wherever else you were looking to have him.”

Loki wanted to snarl. Wanted to bare his teeth and say _if you lay one hand on me I will tear it off._ But he was all too aware of the Grandmaster’s eyes on him. The Grandmaster turned toward him. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re going to be good, aren’t you? For me.” 

Loki was tempted to swallow his tongue rather than answer. But the Grandmaster was looking at him, expectant. He imagined calling on his magic, lashing out with something vicious and _very_ effective, severing Zal’s head from his shoulders. But the consequences-

The Grandmaster would make sure he paid for it ten times over. And with the accursed disc on his neck, he wouldn’t get very far before he was brought down. It would only be putting off the inevitable.

Sooner or later he was going to end up here again, and maybe it would be even worse.

“Yes, Grandmaster,” he said, his voice grating over his throat. “I would never be anything else.”

“There’s a good boy,” the Grandmaster said approvingly. “I knew I could count on you.” He patted Loki on the shoulder. “And, mm - I’ve got a gag I’ll throw in for free,” the Grandmaster said casually. “He gets a little, ah, mouthy sometimes.”

Loki’s face heated, humiliation searing through him. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away from them both, only for the Grandmaster to bring his head back around, tipping his chin up, fingertips sliding lightly over Loki’s pulse. 

“Be _have,_ doll,” he said. “Maybe I’ll - who knows, maybe I’ll make out good and be able to come back for you early! But - have fun, okay?” He kissed Loki soundly, then let go and gave him a little push. “All yours, buddy. Enjoy.” 

And he was gone. 

Zal grasped his arm with one of his hands, and Loki wrenched free, twisting with a snarl. “Let go of me,” he snapped. Zal grinned, revealing pointed teeth.

“He mentioned you were a fighter,” he said. “I like that.” 

Loki’s stomach roiled and he took a quick step back. “If you walk away from this,” he said, “I won’t hurt you.” His fingers itched for his knives, but outright murder in the open, here, would draw too much attention. Maybe there was a way out of this after all. Maybe he could get far enough, fast enough, that the obedience disc wouldn’t matter, and the Grandmaster wouldn’t be able to find him, and it wouldn’t matter that he didn’t have anywhere to go because at least he wouldn’t be the Grandmaster’s whore.

Zal’s eyes hardened. “Try anything,” he said, “and I’ll see what this does.” He held up a small and all-too-familiar device in one of his hands, and Loki felt his brief hopes evaporate. It must have shown on his face, because Zal’s smile widened and he said, “let’s go. I have you for the whole night, and if your owner wasn’t bluffing, I’m planning on using the whole thing.”

Those words, _your owner,_ seared through Loki like a sword through his gut. It was nothing he hadn’t already known. But hearing it, now, like this-

For the first time, it really felt true _._

* * *

Zal led Loki to another hotel. Nice, Loki noticed, _upscale,_ and he wondered absently and a little dizzily how much the Grandmaster had charged for him. Mostly he kept trying to think of a way to escape. This ought to be his chance, away from the Grandmaster’s eyes, his magic his own, if he could summon one of his knives and kill Zal quickly, grab the controller and run–

 _Run? Run where? With what money? They’d catch you before you got off this planet._ Even if he got away here and now, he wouldn’t get very far before the Grandmaster caught up. And he _would_ catch up, and what he’d do then…

He bit the inside of his cheek. _Think, think, think you idiot, aren’t you supposed to be smart-_

Zal scanned a card to access a room and didn’t wait for Loki to follow him, dragging him inside and then slamming him back against the door, pinning one of his wrists against it. He was strong, probably not as strong as Thor but strong enough that Loki would have to put in some effort to push him off. He closed in, pinning Loki between his body and the door. Loki bucked, reflexively, and Zal grabbed his other wrist and pinned it above his head as well.

“You might be a fighter,” he said, “but not when I’m done with you.” 

Loki’s breathing snagged with a brief ripple of fear but he snarled, baring his teeth. “Better than you has tried to-”

He used one of the tentacles to shove the gag into Loki’s mouth hard enough that he almost choked on it. Loki convulsed, tried to spit it out, but Zal held it firmly in place and showed his pointed teeth again. 

“Thanks for the challenge,” he said. “This is going to be fun.” His fingers squeezed Loki’s wrists, digging in between the two bones in his arms. He used one of the second set of arms to tear off Loki’s shirt.

Literally. Ripping it in two, leaving his chest exposed and heaving. He tried to twist away, almost sliding free, but one of the second pair of arms pinned his chest as well, the leathery texture of Zal’s skin rough on Loki’s. He ground against him and Loki hissed, his body bucking, but that just elicited a low, pleased rumble. He couldn’t feel any erection, but he couldn’t find that soothing. 

He pulled back just enough to leave room for the hand fumbling at Loki’s pants, shoving them clumsily down over his hips and leaving him exposed. Loki shuddered, hating the faint shiver that passed through him when Zal’s fingers brushed his cock.

He let go of Loki’s wrists and grabbed his hair instead, dragging him back into the room. Loki twisted, trying to free himself again, only to buckle when the obedience disc went off. When he could think again at all he was bent over a table, his cheek pressed against it, a hand gripping the back of his neck as another fastened the gag in place. He bit down into rubber, a snarl tearing out of his chest, and thrashed. He couldn’t get the leverage to move. He reached to claw at the hand on his neck, but his fingernails made as little impression on Zal’s skin as they would have on steel.

Panic spiked. His thoughts fuzzed, blurred, but he wasn’t getting anywhere, was trapped and at the mercy of this _creature._

One hand pressed Loki’s face into the wood, another reached down, groping between his legs until his large hand was cupping Loki’s balls. His body jerked and he sucked in a breath that turned into a gasp when Zal began to tighten his hold. Lightly at first and Loki’s breathing hitched, but the pressure increased and Loki’s eyes slammed closed, the gag muffling his cry. He squirmed, trying to pull away, but was brought up short almost immediately by the pain. He bit back a whine though his eyes started to water.

Another slow tug down and Loki’s brain briefly shut off only to restart painfully. Zal let go and Loki let out a gasp of relief that turned into a muffled yelp when he struck Loki’s balls with an open hand. His body lurched forward and his cock twitched; he could feel his face burning.

“You want this,” Zal said roughly. “ _Slut._ Playing hard to get.” He hit Loki again, and he was almost grateful that the noise he made was swallowed by the gag, now wet with saliva. The next blow fell on his ass, one buttock and then the other, hard enough to jar his hips forward before he could catch himself and leave a stinging heat behind. 

One of the tentacles slid around his waist, leaving a slick trail on his skin down to his half-hard cock. Loki tried to twist away from him, and Zal let him go this time with a laugh. Loki lurched upright and whipped around where he could see Zal, panting. He tried to back away only to hit the table. Cornered. _Trapped._

“Get on your knees,” Zal said. Loki swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his throat, and gave Zal the most challenging and defiant look he could summon when his mouth was stuffed with a gag and there was spit dripping over his chin. Hatred burned in his stomach like bile. He reached for his magic. Whatever the Grandmaster did to him if he rebelled surely couldn’t be worse than accepting this.

No, Loki thought. No, it absolutely could be. He could easily imagine how, and he was sure the Grandmaster had an even better imagination.

He hated himself, almost sick with it, but he went to his knees. 

Zal stripped in a few perfunctory movements, casting his clothes aside. At his groin was a bulge that seemed to pulse as Loki looked at it. A slit opened, a slippery, pink length sliding out, the girth at the base as thick as his wrist and nearly as long as his forearm. A small noise slid out of Loki’s mouth around the gag, his entire body clenching as if preemptively rejecting any attempt to put that thing inside him. 

He didn’t think he was going to have much of a choice, and he’d already decided, hadn’t he? Already knew that he couldn’t get away, not really, and trying would ultimately just - make things worse. He still recoiled when Zal reached for him, one of his other hands grasping his cock. Zal stopped, eyes narrowing. “None of that,” he said roughly. “You’re mine, remember? Means I get to do whatever I want with you. And right now I want your mouth for a starter.”

Loki took several quick breaths through his nose, yanking his eyes away from that monstrous cock to force his eyes up to Zal’s face, setting his jaw and communicating silently all the loathing that he felt. Zal’s annoyance faded to amusement.

He unbuckled the gag and let it fall. Loki worked his jaw, only to feel the narrow tip of Zal’s cock press against his parted lips, one of his hands sliding to the back of Loki’s head and drawing him forward to push into his mouth. He almost bit down, then remembered the Grandmaster and _it could be worse_ and shoved himself away instead, boxing up every conscious thought and pushing it to the back of his mind. 

_The Grandmaster could come,_ he thought wildly. _He could still come, and stop this._ He had the last time. Loki strained to hear footsteps, a knock at the door-

The creature’s cock slid slickly over his tongue, and he heard a rumbling growl he could only interpret as pleasure. Holding Loki in place, he thrust deeper, stretching Loki’s jaw around his thick cock, pressing more and more of himself into his mouth until the tip of his cock was tickling the back of Loki’s palate and he had to force down his gag reflex. Loki heard himself make a sound between a moan and a whine and flushed.

Zal’s hand twisted into Loki’s hair and he yanked him forward and down, driving into him with brutal force, uncaring of the possibility that Loki might not be able to take it. He choked, trying instinctively to recoil but the hand in his hair held him fast, his throat spasming around a cock that seemed several inches too long. He hadn’t even taken all of it yet but he didn’t feel like he could take more, not without suffocating. He already couldn’t breathe, head spinning, swallowing convulsively and aware that he was probably only making it better. The low groan above him suggested as much, and the way he pulled Loki’s hair harder.

His head was starting to spin when Zal drew back just enough that he could suck in a breath, though not much of one before he thrust back in. His body convulsed and some of his hair ripped out of his scalp, but Zal was strong enough to keep him from getting far. Instead he dragged Loki closer, forcing more of his monstrous cock down his throat. His eyes were watering, jaw stretched painfully wide, and Loki was suddenly and horribly certain that he was going to die, like this, suffocated on this creature’s cock.

 _Bite down. Use your teeth and bite it off, let him bleed to death._ _Damn the consequences._

He started to. Almost the second his teeth brushed skin, Zal yanked him off by his hair and struck him hard across the face with enough force that it actually _hurt._ His hands snapped up to twist the hand holding him until it loosened its grip–

One of those tentacle-like limbs snaked around his throat and tightened, squeezing like a constricting snake. Bad enough, but then the obedience disc hit him too, and when that passed, he was gasping for air, only upright because of the hand in his hair and the grip around his neck. 

“Try anything with your teeth,” Zal said, “and I’ll break them and pay your owner for damages later.” 

Loki wondered if he could actually do that. If he was strong enough. He wondered if it mattered. 

It probably didn’t. 

He licked his lips and said hoarsely, “I can imagine this is the only way you can convince anyone to fuck you. It seems unlikely anyone would _choose_ it, after all.”

It was stupid. And pointless. And he said it anyway. 

About a half a minute later, his jaw throbbing, choking on the cock halfway down his throat as Zal fucked his mouth like he could shove more of himself in, it didn’t feel worth it. 

When he came after what felt like an eternity, it was thick, almost viscous, and bitter, filling his throat faster than he could swallow, spilling over his chin and dripping onto his thighs. He withdrew roughly and Loki coughed, on the verge of retching, half imagining he could feel the come sloshing uneasily in his stomach. Zal’s cock twitched with a last few spurts onto the carpet, and he let out a noisy exhale.

Then, hand still in Loki’s hair, he yanked forward and shoved him down, forcing him to catch himself on his hands. “Clean that up,” he said roughly, “and not with your hands.” A spark of anger flared up again, stronger than the twisting humiliation and nausea. Loki writhed, trying to tear loose.

“No,” he said, or started to say. He had a half a second of warning, hearing the faint and too-familiar _click_ before his body lit up with pain and he dropped.

It could not have lasted that long, but he was still left panting. He could feel sticky come smearing against his cheek and Zal nudged his head with one foot. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he said. “I don’t want to see a drop left.” 

Loki forced himself to take three breaths. _Control yourself. You just have to get through this. It doesn’t matter. Whatever he does to you, it doesn’t-_

He pushed himself up to hands and knees and lowered his head. _Don’t think. Just imagine tearing his head from his shoulders, bathing in his blood._

Above him he could hear Zal’s noisy breathing. Of course this was arousing him. It was clear enough what he enjoyed.

At least, Loki caught himself thinking, whatever his come was made of, it wasn’t soaking into the damn carpet. 

* * *

Loki had harbored some vague hope that Zal would be the impatient kind; that he would be rough and fast and it would be over quickly. 

But oh, no. He wasn’t that lucky. It was clear that he meant to take his time and use Loki for all he was worth.

‘All he was worth.’ There was a sum for that, now. Somewhere the Grandmaster was spending it. 

He knew he was thinking about trivialities to avoid thinking about his position, tied spread-eagled and face down with strips of his own clothing. Loki had no idea what he was supposed to wear after this. Probably Zal didn’t care.

Loki could tear free. It wouldn’t be that hard.

He wasn’t going to.

Zal was moving around the room but Loki couldn’t twist his head around far enough to see what he was doing. He hissed out a breath. “What are you waiting for,” he said harshly, knowing he’d probably regret it but sick of the anticipation. 

“Are you that impatient?” he said. “Glad to hear it.” 

Loki clenched his jaw. “I’m just wondering if you’re stalling,” he said. “Maybe you overestimated your stamina-”

His voice cut off in a strangled noise. Through the pain of the disc Loki thought, _he likes using that far too much._ It didn’t last long, but it left him breathless and a little dazed.

“There,” Zal said, sounding satisfied, and Loki heard a loud _slap_ against wood, a familiar enough sound for him to recognize and tense. He forced himself to relax a moment later, forced himself to keep breathing steadily. _Whatever he does will be nothing,_ Loki told himself. _Whatever pain he might inflict, you’ve had worse._

This was different. Somehow, indefinably, different. 

The tails of a whip slapped lightly at his back and dragged down, following his spine. No metal, he noted with faint relief. That was something.

“You’ve been whipped before,” Zal said. It wasn’t a question. “Consider this a warm-up for later.” 

Oh, _that_ was promising.

The first blow cracked loudly against his skin. Loki sucked in a sharp breath, his body jumping involuntarily at the initial sting, more in surprise than pain; in spite of everything, in spite of _himself,_ a spark low in his stomach started to burn. _No,_ he thought viciously. _No, you will not take an ounce of pleasure from this._

The second blow overlapped the first. Loki pressed his forehead into the bed and breathed deeply, trying to think of anything but the way the warmth of blood rising to skin was echoed by blood moving elsewhere. 

The whip flicked against his flank, the tails sliding against his skin, and Loki tensed. 

“You don’t mark easy, do you,” Zal said. This time Loki managed to keep his mouth shut. His hands opened and closed and he could easily tear free, flip over and drive one of his knives into Zal’s throat-

No. No, he couldn’t.

Apparently the _warm up_ was over, because he grunted and started flogging Loki in earnest, full-armed blows that cracked against his back. Loki sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek so he didn’t make a sound. As the heat rose to his skin, the sting turning toward a burn, Loki felt himself begin to sink into the rhythm of it.

He caught himself, biting down harder to ground himself with the bright pain, and then stopped.

What was the point? 

He let himself go. This time when his body responded he let it happen, let himself slide sideways, somewhere else where he’d chosen this. It wasn’t going to stop if he fought it. He might as well. He wasn’t hard, exactly, but his balls felt heavy, a heat in his loins that echoed the pulsing heat of his back. A faint moan slipped past his lips, his eyes closed.

The next stroke left a stinging line across his buttocks. Loki’s eyes snapped open and he jerked again with a sharp sound, but it seemed Zal had tired of using his back and wanted a fresh canvas, now lashing his ass and the backs of his thighs, lighting more sensitive skin on fire, and Loki realized that he was rutting against the bed, hips pulsing in time with the blows. 

He made himself stop, but not in time. Braying laughter exploded behind him. 

“Is this good for you, slut?” Zal asked. “Do you like being beaten like the filthy animal you are?”

Loki sucked in a breath, shame sinking its teeth into his throat. _Whore. Disgrace. What would your mother think to see you now._

“If I’m-” Loki swallowed hard. “If I am - an _animal._ What does that make you for fucking me?”

That brought out a snarl and a full-armed stroke across the already stinging backs of his thighs. Loki gritted his teeth and rode it out, sucking in breaths through his nose, his hands curling into fists. 

“Can’t shut up, can you,” Zal said. “Do you want the gag again?” 

Loki didn’t answer, focusing on his own breathing, grasping for control. Zal moved abruptly, walking away, and Loki tried to take the respite to steady himself, but he was back all too soon and holding a knife. Loki felt his eyes widen and tried to rear away as Zal brought it to his face. He stroked the flat of it over Loki’s cheekbone, turning the blade just shy of where it would cut, and smiled. 

Loki could hear himself breathing fast and hard. “I wonder how much your owner would charge me if I cut up your pretty face,” he said. Loki’s guts clenched and he held very still. 

Zal laughed, pulled the knife away, and slit the cloth away from his wrists, both times just nicking the skin. Loki didn’t doubt it was deliberate. He flexed his fingers, twisting his wrists, only to still again at the knifepoint under his chin. 

“Hips up,” he said. “Elbows on the bed.” 

Loki swallowed hard. He hoped the hate in his eyes was visible; he doubted Zal cared, but he wanted him to _know._

But he still did as he was told, moving to get his knees under him as Zal moved back around behind. He dug his fingers into the blanket and imagined it was Zal’s throat. At least his arousal had ebbed, though if that was a blessing, it was undoubtedly a mixed one.

Some kind of lubricant, cold and wet, was smeared against him and Loki braced himself for fingers, or a cock, but what pressed against him was neither. Leather, or something similar, rubbed in rough circles against his asshole, and it took Loki a moment to figure out what it was: the whip. He’d used one end on him. It seemed he was going to use the other as well.

The thought struck him as hideously absurd, and he almost wanted to giggle.

Zal shoved the handle of the whip into him. Loki let out a sharp bark of pain, his body jerking forward like he could get away, only for the grip on his hair to yank him back. His face burned as Zal fucked him with it in quick and rhythmic thrusts that began, after the initial shock, to cross over from pain to pleasure. Rage and humiliation tangled with arousal and left him quivering, his thoughts a muddle; he could feel every inch of it ramming into him with each thrust, rigid and unyielding, and there was something about being used like this, like he wasn’t even worthy of his damn _cock,_ that scraped against something raw and painful within him. 

And that, the _shame,_ just made him want it.

The textured leather dragged across some spot inside and Loki gasped, hips pushing up involuntarily to chase that glimpse of satisfaction; Zal pressed it in deep and twisted, the hard, inflexible pressure flipping back over the fine line and leaving Loki scrabbling for what he’d lost, hating himself for wanting it back. For _wanting_ to enjoy anything about this.

Zal pulled the whip’s handle out of him all at once and Loki heard it hit the floor with a thump. He reached around, grabbed Loki’s cock and twisted. Loki let out a strangled shout, his body bucking only to stop short, tethered by Zal’s grip on him. His thumb dragged across the head of Loki’s cock, dry and rough like sandpaper on sensitive skin. Loki swallowed his gasp but Zal didn’t stop, rubbing in insistent circles that scratched just enough on the edge of pleasure to keep him half-hard, but not enough to blur anything of what was happening. He was breathing in shallow gasps, Loki realized, and tried to slow and deepen them. 

“You’re lucky,” Zal said, his voice thick with lust, “that I don’t have better _tools_ with me. This is nothing. I’d have your balls in a vice. Or this ring with ridges on the inside and if you get hard...I hear it hurts _._ ”

Zal stopped his insistent rubbing and squeezed. Loki slammed his eyes closed and didn’t quite catch his yelp in time. He only hoped it was drowned out by the heavy breathing of the creature behind him. He released Loki’s cock and grabbed his hair instead, dragging his head back until his neck strained. His other hands kneaded the meat of his ass, pulling his buttocks apart. 

Fingers rubbed against him and Loki braced himself, trying to relax, but it was hard when his neck ached and his cock throbbed and all he could think was that he wished right now that he was a lot less sober.

Thick fingers breached him and twisted. Loki tried to jerk away but that only resulted in Zal’s second pair of arms grasping his hips to keep him still. He pressed his fingers inexorably deeper and Loki bit his tongue so he didn’t moan.

The fingers withdrew and Loki braced himself for his cock, only to jerk forward when something else teased at his hole, slick and soft on his skin, and he knew without looking that it was one of the - _tentacles_ , moving inside him, sliding in deeper and deeper and _deeper._ He moaned, trying to twist away but there was nowhere to go. His ass burned for the stretch; it had started thin but now felt like it would split his body in two. Loki’s body clenched, trying to reject the intrusion to no avail other than a grunt that sounded like pleasure. 

A faint whine slipped through his teeth that became a cry when the tentacle undulated inside him, the tip probing deeper than any cock could reach. Loki curled his hands into fists but his cock was hard, the pressure and wet slide into his body at once horrible and unbearably good.

And too much. He just kept _going,_ the thickening tentacle forcing him open until the pain crossed over from pleasure, then back into what felt dangerous before he stopped at last. 

“That’s right,” Zal said, his voice rough and thick. “ _Take_ it. He wasn’t lying about you, was he, most whores would be _begging_ by now.” Loki gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the spark of hideous _pride._ “Can’t wait to get my cock in you. See you take the whole thing, swallow it all like your mouth couldn’t.”

 _Oh,_ Loki thought dizzily. _Oh, fuck._ He was going to be ruined. Torn open and spitted on this brute’s cock like a - like a roast boar.“No,” he said, breathless. “No, don’t you dare, I’ll-”

Zal gripped his neck in one hand, thick fingers digging into the sides of his throat, and struck his ass with another, _hard,_ like he was trying to leave a bruise, directly over one of the stinging welts on his backside. “Not up to you, is it,” he growled, and dragged the limb inside of him out, leaving Loki empty and gasping. He grasped at the blankets, scrabbling for some kind of purchase.

“I’d gag you again,” Zal said, “but I want to hear you scream.”

 _I won’t,_ Loki thought. _Whatever else you take I won’t give you that,_ and he knew it was thin but at least it was _something_ to hang on to. 

The tentacle that had been inside him slithered over his balls, wrapped around them and squeezed. Loki sucked in a breath, his cock that had softened twitching, the dull ache in his gut swelling up again. He fought it, then gave up. There was no point in fighting it, and he might as well not _try_ to make it worse. Still, he bit down on the sound that tried to emerge, the moan that wanted to escape. 

He pressed his forehead down and tried to send his mind elsewhere. Leave his body behind and go...where would he go? He couldn’t think of anywhere that would be safe. 

Zal thrust into him with a grunt, and at least to begin with it was easy, his body still stretched open so that his cock slid in with almost no resistance. Loki let out a shuddering breath that hitched a little when Zal shifted, apparently finding a better angle for himself. He tensed involuntarily and heard Zal laugh. One of his hands gripped the back of Loki’s neck and bore downward.

He pulled out a little only to thrust deeper, pressing more of his cock into Loki and he hated, briefly, how his body accepted it, surrendered. Like he was, as the Grandmaster had said, _made for this._

_Better this way. Better that you’re going to walk away from this not torn open and bleeding-_

He hoped. Norns. Maybe that was optimistic. 

Another withdrawal and another snap of his hips, and Loki sucked in a breath, feeling the pressure deeper inside him, the head of his cock not necessarily thicker than the tentacle but less forgiving, harder. His thighs tensed and he tried to force himself to relax. The hand on his neck squeezed and he could feel the thick fingers press against the disc. 

Zal pulled all the way out and Loki just caught his gasp in time. He could hear the wet sound of lubricant being applied, and then more dripping over his ass. 

This time when he fucked into Loki it was hard, jarring his body forward, and Loki just muffled his cry in the blankets. The cock felt like a rod jammed inside him and he hadn’t been _ready,_ not for how he could feel it now, splitting him open impossibly deep. He bit back the _too much_ that rose to his lips but his body trembled, and Zal paused. 

“How’s that,” he said, voice harsh, not really a question. “How’s that feel, little whore, how do you like having my cock in you?”

Loki took three harsh breaths, licked his lips, and said, “I’ve had better.”

That won him a cross between a growl and a snarl, and a shallow pulling back followed by his _slamming_ back in, somehow forcing more of his cock into Loki’s body and how much more could he _take-_

“You’re going to taste it when I come,” Zal said, his voice thick. “Gonna-” He cut off with another animal grunt, pulling out again and Loki only had a moment to gasp his relief before Zal’s hips thrust forward, his hands holding Loki steady, dragging him back onto his cock even as he shoved in.

Loki almost screamed. _Almost._ Just managed to hold it back but not the thin, fractured whine, his thoughts fizzing. It was too much _too much_ and Zal was going to break him, impaled on his cock. He sucked in shallow breaths that didn’t seem to fill his lungs, every exhale accompanied by that pathetic sound. Zal didn’t stop, either, coring him, and Loki wasn’t even a little hard anymore. There wasn’t _room_ for arousal, not with Zal’s cock filling him so horribly deep.

Wasn’t room for anything. Not even himself.

Loki almost slumped in relief when he felt the pressure of Zal’s thighs against his ass that told him that he’d taken it all, to the root. He did close his eyes, his head lolling to the side. Fine, he told himself. This was fine. Nothing he couldn’t handle–

The obedience disc went off. 

He let out a strangled sound, his body snapping rigid, muscles spasming. Powerful hands seized his hips, digging fingers into his flesh hard enough that it would probably bruise even him, holding Loki’s ass steady even as the rest of him twitched uncontrollably. He almost didn’t notice when Zal started fucking him. Almost. 

He didn’t bother to start slow, or give Loki time to adjust. He pounded Loki like a piston, hammering into him, dragging out and then thrusting in again like he was trying to break Loki in two, like if he fucked Loki hard enough he might be able to shove his cock up through him and out his mouth. He was caught between sensations, the pain of the disc searing through his body, the burn of the hard use, and he shook in their grip like a rat in a dog’s jaws

And the unwilling arousal coiling through him, dredged up from the sick depths of Loki’s desires, and he was slipping toward an edge with every driving thrust. It wasn’t enough to come, not by far, but it was enough to shove him closer and closer to a breaking point, to a place where something, where _he_ would give and he didn’t know what would happen then. 

Zal let out a guttural sound, his hips slamming against Loki’s once more. Hot spend flooded into him, what felt like a torrent filling his ass, up inside him and he imagined blurrily that he could feel it seeping into his very intestines. He was certain it was his imagination that he could taste it at the back of his throat. Nearly certain.

Finally, the punishment from the disc stopped. Loki went limp, panting, dizzy, sore, used up. Zal pulled out of him and Loki heard him walk away without a word, the door to the washroom closing behind him. Loki stayed where he was, unmoving.

He felt...filthy. Soiled. And not just because of the liquid that he could feel trickling out of him. Come, maybe blood, he didn’t know and it didn’t matter.

Zal didn’t care who he was. Probably didn’t even remember his name. Even more than to the Grandmaster he was nothing more than a body to be used, and Loki had _let_ him. He’d let it happen.

He was glad that he was facedown. It meant he could press his face against the bed and focus on trying not to vomit for the sickening shame. 

He wanted, Loki realized with a dull kind of horror, for the Grandmaster to be here. He’d wanted him to come before, to stop this, and he wanted him to be here now, because however cruel the Grandmaster was, he could also be kind. Or at least he pretended to be.

Loki heard Zal returning but didn’t have the energy to tense. He slapped Loki’s thigh, hard enough to sting. “Turn over,” he said. Loki heard himself make a ragged sound. 

_No,_ he thought. _No, surely not._

“Haven’t you done enough,” he said hoarsely.

“Not by half,” Zal said. “I told you. I’ve got you all night, and for the price I paid, I’m getting my money’s worth out of you. _Over,_ or do I have to make it hurt?”

 _It already hurts,_ Loki wanted to say. His ass was raw, his nerves thrummed with the aftershocks of the disc, and his throat felt bruised. 

He lunged for his magic and flipped over with fire in his hand, lashing out at anything in reach. He grabbed Zal’s arm and he shouted with surprised pain, the magic hot enough to burn even that thick skin. Zal reared back, but even as Loki tried to rise, body clumsy and uncoordinated, the obedience disc lit up his nerves with fresh pain. Zal looked down at his spasming body.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he said. “Long and _hard._ ”

* * *

By the time it was over, Loki had lost consciousness at least twice - he couldn’t be certain, because he’d hazed out a few times, too. Loki had a fair amount of experience, and he had never lacked for an adventurous spirit, but there were limits to his endurance and somehow Zal managed to find them and outlast them. 

Well before the end, he stopped being able to think at all. 

He didn’t register Zal’s departure, just, at some point, his absence. He didn’t think he could move yet, though, or at least didn’t want to, just stayed where he’d been left ( _discarded_ ) on the floor, and drifted from his body, but not far enough to lose track of the pain. He wished he could just shuck it entirely, abandon his soiled flesh. Let the Grandmaster keep it, while Loki’s mind and soul fled elsewhere.

He did move eventually, sluggishly, dragging himself to his feet and limping to the washroom. His legs shook as he stepped into the shower and turned the water on as hot as he dared. It stung on the welts and scratches, and he didn’t want to think about touching his cock or balls. Mostly he stood and let the spray run off his skin, one hand braced on the wall to keep himself standing.

Loki could hear his own shaky, stuttering breaths over the sound of the water, not quite sobs but perilously close. 

There was a knock on the door and Loki jumped and almost fell. His heart leaped into his throat as he imagined Zal returning, wanting more, and Loki thought hysterically that if he tried he might actually perish. _Fucked to death._ What a _glorious_ end that would be for the former King of Asgard. 

“Coming in!” said the Grandmaster’s bright voice, and Loki’s knees almost gave out with sheer relief. Stepping in, the Grandmaster waved a cloud of steam out of his face and said, “goodness, warm in here. You didn’t turn on a fan?” 

“I - forgot,” Loki said. His voice was hoarse, and it hurt to speak.

“Oof,” the Grandmaster said. “You sound _rough._ ” He came closer, eyes sweeping up and down Loki’s body, and he clicked his tongue. “Look it too, goodness - ah, he really went hard on you, huh?” Loki didn’t answer that - he wasn’t certain he needed to. The Grandmaster made a sympathetic noise. “Bit much, sweetheart?”

Loki shivered a little and swayed. The Grandmaster’s hands caught him by his shoulders, steadying him. “There you are,” he said. “Easy. Let’s - let’s get you home, hmm? Cleaned up, tucked into bed...I’m going to take care of you now. How does that sound? Good?”

Loki’s throat closed and he swallowed hard to clear it. “Yes,” he said, because it did, sounded _wretchedly_ good, and the relief of knowing it was _over_ ( _for now_ ) was making his knees weak. 

The Grandmaster smiled at him. “Of course it does,” he said. “I only have the best ideas. And I - I know what you need, Lo. And you were so _good!_ I mean, bit rough at the start there, but...thanks to you we don’t have to worry about money for a bit! Isn’t that great?”

“Mm,” Loki said. The Grandmaster was steering him back into the bedroom, apparently untroubled by his monosyllabic answers.

“Here, sit - or, ooh, maybe not, hm? Here’s a robe, let’s just go with that-” Loki let himself be dressed, half-listening to the Grandmaster’s patter, exhausted, his eyes prickling. He wanted to pull himself together, to be something less _pathetic,_ but he couldn’t quite find the wherewithal. Not at the moment. This was just...a strategic retreat, Loki told himself. Temporary. 

The Grandmaster bundled him into a taxi where he did have to sit, and he almost whimpered. Still, he dozed off on the way, and wasn’t entirely certain how he made it back up to the rooms the Grandmaster had rented. 

“Robe off, sweetheart,” the Grandmaster said. “How about a bath? I think a bath would be nice. You just relax.”

“I just want to sleep,” Loki said. The Grandmaster tsked. 

“Of course, of course, you must be just _exhausted,_ silly me. But you’re just - such a _mess_ right now, and I think...let’s at least give you a bit of a rubdown, eh?” 

Loki wondered dazedly if that was a euphemism. “Whatever you want,” he said dully. 

“Well, of _course,_ ” the Grandmaster said. “Yes, let’s just...let’s start with a relaxing tonic, hmm?”

That sounded...actually, good. He could use something to blur his thoughts a little more. Soften the edges of...everything. “Please,” he said weakly. The Grandmaster patted his cheek and strolled over to a minibar in the corner, returning shortly with a glass of...something. Loki didn’t really care what it was; he drank it all in a few swallows.

“Wow,” the Grandmaster said. “You could’ve...could’ve savored that a little more, you know.” 

“Sorry,” Loki said absently, though he wasn’t at all certain what he was apologizing for.

“Already forgiven,” the Grandmaster said, and gave him a little push toward the bed. “Okay, _now_ clothes off, let’s see what we’re working with here...why don’t you just lie down, I think I’ve got something around here to ease those little aches and pains.”

Loki shrugged out of the robe mechanically (where were his clothes? did it matter?) and limped over to the bed, lying down gingerly on his front. It seemed like a better alternative, though not by much. At least he could feel the drink hitting his empty stomach hard. He could hear the Grandmaster rustling around and closed his eyes, drifting.

“Here it is!” the Grandmaster said. “All right, yes...oh, _my._ That looks like it stings.” He ran his fingers over one of the fading welts across Loki’s back and he flinched, his breath catching briefly. The Grandmaster clicked his tongue. “Poor baby.”

The sympathy, cloying as it was, made Loki’s eyes burn with the threat to cry. He wanted to, pathetically, and at least with his face pressed against the blankets, as long as he stayed quiet no one would see. 

“Now let’s just…” he felt the bed shift as the Grandmaster climbed on and straddled him, and for a horrible moment he imagined the Grandmaster taking _his_ turn and felt briefly dizzy, but he just started rubbing something cool and smooth - some kind of salve - into Loki’s skin. It tingled, then went cold, and then both sensations faded.

The relief was nearly immediate, and Loki whimpered very faintly as the salve numbed the pain, wiping it away. “There,” the Grandmaster said. “Isn’t that nice? This is - the _good_ stuff. Nothing but the best for you, sweetheart.” He moved slowly down over Loki’s back, pausing to tend the raw rings around his wrists, massaging out the knots between his shoulder blades. He was good with his hands, and Loki’s thoughts fuzzed and blurred, floating somewhere in between consciousness and unconsciousness. 

“ _There_ you are,” the Grandmaster purred, his hands sliding over Loki’s hips, up and over his buttocks. “Now let’s - let’s take a look at the damage _here_ , hmm?”

Loki roused with a noise of protest, his half-closed eyes opening, jerking back toward awareness. “I don’t-”

“Ah,” the Grandmaster said. “Watch - watch your language, honey. Come on. I just want to look _after_ you.”

He wanted to find a way to refuse, ask him to stop, to wait, _something,_ but the Grandmaster was already pulling his buttocks apart, exposing him, and he couldn’t quite find the right words. Even the _air_ felt like too much on raw, abused flesh. “Grandmaster,” he said weakly, but he was, predictably, ignored.

And he was just too tired to fight.

“Oof. He really, mmm, gave you a _pounding,_ didn’t he?” The Grandmaster’s fingers probed his asshole and Loki let out a thin sound, trying to twist away. “All puffy and - _open._ I’m actually a little impressed!” 

Loki focused on breathing deeply, squeezing his eyes closed, his face burning in abject shame.

“Anyway - this might sting a bit,” the Grandmaster said. His fingers slid into Loki easily, but _sting_ was an understatement; just the touch at all, to begin with, and then the salve that _burned_ inside him _._ Loki yelped and tried to jerk away, but the Grandmaster held him down and a moment later the burn faded and took a great deal of the pain with it. He went limp with relief.

“See?” the Grandmaster said. “Better?” He nodded, and the Grandmaster patted his ass. Gently, but Loki still flinched. “Much better. Absolutely. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”

 _Ready for more,_ Loki thought, and wanted to crawl under the bed and hide. The Grandmaster pulled his fingers out of Loki’s body and wiped them off on his hip.

“Isn’t this nice?” he said. “I only want the best for you, hon, I really do. And I know you only want to...to make me happy. Right?”

Loki nodded again, because he had to.

“Great,” the Grandmaster said. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page. You _did_ make me happy, Lo. I’m _so_ proud of you.” 

Horribly, Loki was _pleased._ Pleased that the Grandmaster was proud of him. That he’d done something good. As if standing outside himself, he registered that feeling, hated it, and hated himself. But he felt it anyway. 

“Such a good boy,” the Grandmaster purred, stroking his hair. Loki melted further into the bed. Between the cessation of pain and the heavy, dulling effect of the drink, he was beginning to drift. “I was thinking of celebrating with you tonight, but...I don’t think you’re quite up for it, are you?”

“I…” Loki trailed off. He wasn’t sure if he could agree.

“Shh,” the Grandmaster said. “Rain check. We’ll do tomorrow. I’ll do you tomorrow. _Heh._ ” He gave Loki’s hair a little tug. “You just take it easy, sweet thing. Close your eyes, take a rest. I’ve got you.” 

Loki hated, more than anything, that he was comforted. He knew what was happening. Knew how this worked. 

But he was still comforted.


End file.
